Betrayal
by Half an Inch
Summary: When an especially horrific mission leaves Alex Rider injured, he needs all the help he can get - whether he wants it or not.
1. Chapter 1

Mrs. Tulip Jones of MI6 barged into the heads office, out of breath. "Alan…" she began.

Alan Blunt, head of MI6, looked up, a little more than annoyed at the noisy entrance. "What is it Mrs. Jones?" he asked, setting his pen on top of the file he was reading. "We have a problem." She paused. Blunt scowled. "Well, are you stopping for suspense, or is that all I need to know? Go on," he growled.

Mrs. Jones opened her mouth to speak when the door smashed open. The receptionist, a lady by the name of Sara, burst in. "Sir, we have a mole in the building," she blurted, cheeks flushed. Blunts head whipped around to glare at Mrs. Jones. "What?" he spat. "Why wasn't I informed about this?"

Jones crossed her arms. "Well, I was _going_ to tell you, if you would _let_ me," she sniped back. Blunt sighed. This was one stressful day. One of his agents, Parker, had gone MIA, and the "gas-leak" explosion in downtown was not helping. "Thank you for informing me," Blunt called to the receptionist in a clipped tone. "You're dismissed." The woman nodded meekly and shut the door softly behind her.

Blunt rubbed his forehead. When he looked up, his emotionless mask was back in place. Blunts mask rarely cracked, but when it did, it was only for a short amount of time. "Okay," he said, composed. "Proceed." Jones made a sound close to a huff. "_As I was saying, _our sources informed us that there was a mole in the building." Blunt nodded. This was Britain's top-secret intelligence agency_._ A mole here and there was to be expected.

"Do you have any idea on who it is?" Mrs. Jones shook her head. "We don't know _exactly _who it is, but I can tell you he's very high up on the ladder." "What do you purpose we do?" Mrs. Jones took a deep breath.

"Alan, I know you might not approve, but I think we should assign agents to Alex Rider. You know. Protection detail."

Blunt looked up sharply. "Rider? Why?"

"Well, Al- _Rider _has made quite a lot of enemies in the underworld. They may be out to get him. I think we-," Blunt cut her off by saying, "Agent Rider is _quite _safe, Mrs. Jones." Jones raised an eyebrow. "Safe? And please, pray tell where he is?"

Blunt smiled cruelly. "Why, in Santa Domingo." Jones stepped back. "Where in the world is that?" she wondered aloud. Blunt chuckled. "In the Dominican Republic, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

16 year old Alex Rider sighed as he adjusted his tie. Blunt had barely batted an eye at Alex when he had shipped him of to the Dominican Republic, the bastard. Now, Alex was standing in front of a mirror, in an expensive villa, looking quite elegant in a black button down shirt, suit and tie. A Rolex glinted dangerously on his wrist.

Despite this, Alex refused to comb his blonde hair, opting to run a hand through it; successfully messing it up. He had a meeting with one of the suspects at a fancy French restaurant. Alex had snorted then but Blunt didn't want to hear it.

While driving in his sleek silver Jaguar, Alex ran through his mental arsenal. Gun, check. Knife, check. Grenade, check. The restaurant was actually pretty nice. Ivy snaked its way up the brick wall. Couples dressed in expensive gowns and suits wormed their way against the crowd. Alex walked into the restaurant, and ran as skilled eye over the array of tables, chairs, and customers.

Something wasn't right. Alex didn't know how he knew but it was just a feeling. He had the same feelings before things went seriously downhill. Spotting a young man in his twenties, his target, he walked over, shaking all thoughts from his head. Alex put on his best poker face and sat down across from the man.

Hathor, without looking up, said,"You have to try the coq au vin." Alex stopped a waiter and ordered a simple meal of salad and light champagne. His client raised an eyebrow at hearing the boys young voice.

"Aren't you too young to drink?" Alex raised his glass and took a delicate sip."Oops. Am I?" The man shook his head in disbelief. "So, did MI6 find any evidence against me?" Okay. So he knew he was being watched. Alex decided that there was no point in lying. With a thought of _what the hell_?, he spoke.

"No. I just wasted my entire spring break for nothing," he replied, moodily stabbing at his salad. Alex looked through his fringe to check for the mans reaction. There was no outward surprise except for a small tug of his lips. He was amused, Alex realized. He finds me amusing. He filed that information away for later.

"Well," Hathor began "I'm pretty sure their search will be in vain." Alex couldn't help but agree. He'd been watching Hathor for way more than a week. In fact, it had almost been a month and not a single suspicious thing had happened except for when his son had dumped his trash on the neighbors yard.

"I'll be leaving," he said standing, and offering his hand to Alex. "It was a pleasure meeting you." Alex stood as well and shook Hathors hand. Looking deep in to his eyes, looking desperately for evidence that would prove him guilty, he replied with a simple "Likewise."

Hathor threw a fifty dollar bill on the table despite the meal not costing more than ten. With a low chuckle, he walked confidently out the door. Alex sent a disgusted look at his champagne. Laws be damned, he thought and drowned his glass.

While making his way out the restaurant, the sense that something was seriously wrong hit him full force.

Innocently looking for any potential threats or snipers, he sighed. He was paranoid. There was no one there. Grimacing, Alex left the restaurant. Now he could finally go home and sleep somewhere that wasn't a bush or the ground. Maybe yell at Blunt on the way.

Deep in thought, he never saw the masked man that snuck up on him. Hitting Alex on the butt of his gun, the teen fell unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

When Alex woke, he had one hell of a headache. From the bumpy ground, he figured he was in a car. A van by the size.

Opening his eyes, he saw six men clad in black outfits and cradling AKs. One of the men, Parker, kneeled down next to where Alex lay bound on the floor. Firmly planting a hand on Alex's chin, he raised his head to meet his eyes. Alex stubbornly refused to bore into the mans cool eyes.

Annoyed at his reaction, Parker drew his hand back and punched Alex square in the face. Alex, helpless on the floor, could do nothing but absolve the impact from the rather hard hit.

"Alex Rider. Pleasure meeting you. It's great to have you here," he drawled. Alex glared venomously at his captor. "Its horrible being here. In your presence I mean ." He sneered.

Parker looked ready to hit Alex again, but another man muttered "James. Lay off him. He'll get enough punishment for his actions at base."

Alex, now armed with the information that they couldn't harm him-for now- spat in the mans face. This time, Parker really did hit him. Alex winced as his ring teared the skin on his cheek. He didn't stop there.

A few minutes later, and Alex was supporting a split lip and two severely bruised ribs. The ride lasted about thirty minutes. When they reached their destination, he was painfully pushed to his feet and forced to get out of the car.

After walking about one fifths a mile, Alex saw his chance. He saw an opening and shoving past the guards, ran towards freedom. The men, too shell-shocked to respond, just watched him escape. Parker was the first to recover.

"What are you doing? Don't let him get away! Shoot him!" He ordered his men. Recovering, they followed the boy into the woods.

* * *

Alex ran faster than ever before. He had to get away. He had to escape. Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted on to who this new group was. It couldn't be Scorpia. They promised to leave him alone!

Suddenly, a blinding, white hot searing pain embedded itself deep down underneath Alex's knee. With a pained cry, he collapsed into a heap on the soft earth. Another bullet grazed deeply into the right side of his torso. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

The Rider kid turned out to be one hell of a character, Smith thought as he hunted him down in the woods. He found him not too far from the group.

The kid looked like hell. Blood completely covered his right knee and the side of his chest. Smith winced. He had a feeling that the kid, Rider, would have a permanent limp from the impact of the bullet shattering the bone.

Crouching down, he picked the teen up, bridal-style, and carried him back to the group.

"Tie him up," Parker ordered when Smith came in sight. Grabbing a pair of handcuffs, he cuffed Riders hands tightly.

Slinging him over his shoulder, they made the slow journey back.

* * *

Alex woke feeling like killing himself. It hurt to breathe. He tried to sit up, but an intense pain in his side caused him to fall back down again.

Laying there, breathing heavily, Alex wondered why he couldn't feel his right leg. He moved it cautiously, and the resulting pain was so great that he blacked out for a few seconds. Gasping in pain, Alex struggled to sit up.

Finally,-albeit painfully- he sat up, leaning heavily on the rough brick wall, gulping in lungful of air. Because of the intense haze of pain he was in, Alex didn't notice when the door slammed open. Two of the guards pulled him to his feet and dragged him across the hallway.

They walked into a small room. Everything was white. From the floor to the ceiling to the walls. Everything was white and it hurt Alex's eyes. The guards threw him in and chained him to the wall and left, shutting the door loudly behind them.

Moments later, Parker walked in. He had a sadistic look in his eyes and he was smirking cruelly. "Hey, Rider," he mocked, as he bent down to Alex's eye level.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he began, pressing his finger into a bruise on Alex's face.

"We want two things. Answers and favors. And since I'm not stingy," Parker stood ,"I don't care which." Pacing around the cell, he said, "You know what? Let me improvise." Rounding on Alex, he snarled, "Actually. I am stingy. Really stingy, and honestly? I want both answers and favors. So let me rephrase that: What do you want do first? Give me answers or do me a favor?"

Alex just watched calmly with a raised eyebrow. Parker growled and speared him twice in the gut. "Well?" He asked impatiently. Alex, to busy breathing heavily through his cracked ribs, just shook his head weakly.

Parker gave him a swift kick in the chest and growled,"I'll give you time to think about it."

* * *

Parker came back around fifteen minutes later, if Alex's internal clock was anything to go by. He looked calmer. Alex himself hadn't done anything except lay on the floor. His eyes were closed. But Parker knew he was awake.

Alex hadn't heard the door open. Parker got his attention by pressing a boot heavily on Alex's bullet wound near his knee. His eyes flew open, panic hazing over his eyes.

Parker looked pleased and removed his shoe. "Good. You're awake. Did you decide?"

Alex lifted his head. "Yeah. I did. I'll do you a favor. But only one. None dies." Parker smiled." I'm sorry to say, but you don't make the demands here. I do. And I say that you're going to do all my dirty work until we run out. Then, I'll drag you back here and wring the answers I wanted right out of you."

Alex looked blankly at the wall, a helpless expression on his face. MI6 wouldn't look for him. He knew that for a fact. Point Blanc and the Snakehead mission proved that. For once Alex he had no way out. He would need a miracle to escape.

Alex's missions were simple. First, he had to bomb the building downtown. Alex didn't find anything special about it. After, he had to rob a bank. Not that bank. A real one. Then, he had to bug The Royal and General. And finally, he had to kill someone. They hadn't told him who it was, but it was a soul nonetheless.

After gearing up, Smith and two other guards drove Alex to the his second destination; the bank.

He slipped a black ski mask on and put his finger on the trigger. Walking up the stairs confidently, he bust open the doors and walked in.

* * *

Kyle Jefferson was having the worst day ever. And then he just had to go to this bank at this time.

He was currently having an argument match with the receptionist about his account balance. Right when things couldn't get any worse, a man with his face covered with a mask and a M16 burst in.

Kyle groaned. Great. " Everyone on the floor with their hands behind their heads! I don't won't to hurt anyone!" Yeah right, Kyle thought while slowly lowering himself to the ground. The gun man then preceded to walk towards the receptionist. Unfortunately, it was the same lady who he was arguing with. She looked at Kyle with wide, pleading eyes.

The robber calmly followed the women's line of sight. Before he could turn away, he locked eyes with Kyle.

Many things passed through the stealers eyes. Only a few emotions that Kyle could actually read. He saw anger, annoyance, and... Fear? Now that he thought about, the man did look kinda familiar. Before Kyle could comprehend what was going on, the thief did something that surprised him very much... He ran.

* * *

Kyle didn't hesitate. His army training kicked in as he pursued the soon-to-be thief down a hallway in the bank.

He was kinda surprised when he found the man just a few yards from where he started running.

Without faltering, Kyle tackled the culprit to the ground.

He cursed twice. Once in English, and once in Arabic. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Wolf! Get off me! You have to help me!" He yelled.

Kyle froze. Wolf? Only his.. He was interrupted by a watery sounding cough. He reached down and pulled the thief's mask of. A head of windblown blonde hair... It couldn't be. "Cub?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Cub?" Kyle asked, shocked.

"Wolf. I'll explain later. Just," another cough, "Get. Off. Me." Wolf frowned. "Are you okay?" "No. Wolf my leg..."

Wolf looked down at the teens leg. It was covered in blood but no shots were fired. His frown deepened. "What happened?" Alex looked panicked.

"Wolf. I don't have time to explain. Just get off." Wolf didn't budge. Alex coughed into his sleeve.

They both caught side of the blood staining the crook of the boys elbow. Said boy looked up, alarmed. "Wolf..."

Kyle ignored him, instead opting to kneel next to the boy. "Are any of your ribs broken?" Alex was about to answer, when Wolf pressed onto the teens rib. Alex hissed. "What happened to you?" He asked, shocked.

"Look, Wolf. Long story short. I got captured and the captors had me do all these little tasks. Wolf. You have to help me."

Just then, a bullet shot rang out. Alex and Wolf shared a look. Run. Wolf turned to run, but he remembered Alex.

"Wolf! Help me up." He mumbled. Turning around, he slung a hand over Alex's shoulder. Alex couldn't hold back a surprised yelp when Wolfs fingers found his other wound. Wolf narrowed his eyes.

"Just how badly are you injured?" "Wolf. We don't have time for this! We have to leave!" Alex stressed.

Wolf promptly dragged Alex out the back door of the bank. All but throwing him in the car, Wolf removed his side arm and returned the favor of shooting at his perusers.

Alex passed out on the passenger seat of Wolfs car.

Sending a worried glance in his direction, he shot at the men. Sure, he didn't like the kid, but he had worked with him once, and then he disappeared for two years only to show up robbing a bank. Not to mention all bloody and injured.

With a cry of defeat, the last gun man went down. Wolf, with a grim expression, jumped into the car and gunned down on the gas pedal, all while calling the head of MI6.

* * *

"It's been two weeks since you sent him on that... Mission. You have to send a retrieval team." Mrs. Jones advised the head calmly.

Blunt looked up. "Agent Rider can take of himself. He's perfectly fine." Jones looked furious. "No, he's probably in the-"

She was interrupted by the phone screaming its shrill cry. "Pick it up." Jones ordered Blunt.

In return, he raised an eyebrow, but picked up the phone nonetheless. "Blunt."

* * *

"Blunt," Wolf heard over the line. "Yeah, this is squadron commander K-unit, Wolf. Code 34637958315. I have a situation. Shit."He cursed as the gunmen returned fire.

* * *

"Shit," Blunt heard Wolfs cursing and a hail of gunfire. "What is it, Commander?" He asked impatiently.

"I have your agent. Alex 'Cub' Rider." Somewhere in the background, he heard someone mutter," Thank God!"

Wolf continued. "He's injured. I'm taking him to the local hospital." Blunt scowled. "No can do, Commander. Bring him to St. Dominic's."

* * *

St. Dominic's? Was this guy crazy?

"Sir, that's in a different continent." Wolf replied patiently.

" As your superior, I order you to bring Agent Rider on British soil. If that's not possible I'll send an agent to complete the task. Clear?"

"Crystal," He ground out. "How do you purpose we get there?"

"I'll send a helicopter. I want him back here in less than twelve hours. Understand?"

Wolf sent a worried look towards the unconscious boy. He needed a hospital now. He put a hand on Alex's forehead. He was burning up.

Despite that, he replied with a, "Understood."

* * *

_ St. Dominic's 3:47 AM London, Britain

Wolf was awakened by a women walking into the hospital room. Mrs. Jones, he recalled. "Is he okay?" She asked with a worried expression on her face.

"What you mean by 'okay'?" Wolf asked her. She gave him a disbelieving look. "Ok. Let me rephrase that. How bad is he?" Wolf sighed.

"Three of his ribs are cracked. His knee got hit by a bullet. He's gonna need crutches for around a month. The bullet wound to his side caught infection, and his left shoulder is dislocated."

The women didn't look surprised. She nodded a quick apology and left without saying a word.

Turning his attention back to Alex, he was surprised to see him awake. "Damn," he cursed in shock. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. How are you?"

Alex shifted, then winced as it pulled at his stitches. "I fell like hell." Wolf nodded. "I could relate."

They lapsed into awkward silence, until Alex broke it. The question took him completely by surprise.

"Hows Eagle and Snake?" Recovering, he quickly answered. "We're not in the same unit anymore. That was just for training purposes. I'm still leader of K, but I do more MI6 stuff these days. We're still friends, though. We keep in touch, and all."

Alex mauled over the answer in his head. "Why're you here anyway?" Wolf looked at him sulkily. "MI6 told me not to leave your side. You know, until things cool down a bit." Alex nodded.

"So what happens to me now?" Wolf sent him an unreadable look. "Blunt got you a guardian. Said its someone you knew. Ring a bell?"

He thought hard. Not coming up with anything, he turned back to Wolf. "So. Who is it?" "I honestly have no idea."

Alex wasn't expecting Wolf to know. "I wonder who it is..." Alex heard as his eyes slipped shut against his will. Wolf, noticing Alex was sleepy, shut up and settled back in his chair.

* * *

"You let him get away?" Parker growled at Jackson, one of the guards who escorted Alex yesterday. Jackson shifted,"Well sir. I didn't let him get away. He kinda...escaped."

Parker sighed and massaged his temple. "Get him back. I don't care how, but hire a professional. I don't trust you idiots with anything now."

The guards shared a look. "A professional?" One of them asked." Yes a professional! Or is that too much for you douchebags? I can always get someone else..." Parker scowled.

Jackson answered, hastily," No! No! We..we can do that!" Parker nodded approvingly. "Good. Do you have anyone in mind?"

The other guard smiled cruelly. "Do I? As a matter of fact, I do."

Parker perked up." Who?"

"Scorpia."

Parker smiled. "Yes. Scorpia will be perfect. I want the boy here in two weeks time."

* * *

The doctor glared at the young boy who lay in front of him. "Mr. Rider. With your injuries, you should stay in bed and rest for another two weeks!"

Alex wouldn't back down. "Sir. I've been cooped up here for precisely thirty- eight hours and twenty seven minutes! I feel like a disabled grandma!"

The doctor, Forest, smiled. "I'll see what I can do," he said and left. Alex sighed and lay back down on his pillow. He winced as it jarred his newly re-set shoulder. He couldn't wait to get out of here.

A moment later, Wolf walked in. He threw Alex's civilian at him. "Gear up." He called. While Wolf was grabbing Alex's crutches, the teen had a thought.

"Hey, I was wondering. Why were you in the Dominican Republic anyways?" He gave Alex a look.

"I live there. Or, at least I used to. I was visiting my parents."

Alex nodded, accepting the answer. He swung his feet over the side of the bed. As he put pressure on his injured foot, it gave away. Before he could hit the floor, strong but gentle hands held him up. "Thanks," Alex muttered.

Wolf nodded and wordlessly handed Alex him his crutch. Tucking one under his uninjured hand, he painfully made his way to the bathroom.

Changing into a black shirt and jeans, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked like hell. His fair skin was paler than usual. The bruise on his cheek and cut running down his face wasn't helping.

Alex walked out. "Think fast," Wolf called out. Alex reached out a hand to grab at the leather jacket Wolf threw at him. "It's going to be cold out."

An instant wave of warmth came over him as he shrugged on the jacket. "Where we headed?" He asked as he awkwardly balanced on one crutch.

"MI6," Wolf answered absentmindedly, while he scanning the horizon out the window."They want to debrief you on the mission and introduce you to your guardian."

"I guess this is where we part ways?" Wolf turned away from the window. "I'll drive you to H.Q, but that's where your new guardian will take over your custody. The sergeant called. Since I'm already in Britain, I decided to cut my leave short." "Oh, and the doctor said you should stay off you feet for at least three days."

Alex made a face. "You mean a wheelchair?" Wolf nodded apologetically. Alex grumbled as he sat down heavily on it. He had to admit, it was a relief to get his weight of his foot. Wolf searched Alex's face.

"Ready?" Alex nodded and together they made their way to the elevator. After Wolf had signed Alex out, they walked to the car MI6 had provided. It was a black, nondescript, McLaren P1.

Alex grinned, "Sweet."

"Tell me about it," Wolf muttered as he ran a hand on the leather seats. He helped Alex into the car. Wolf started the car and they made their way to MI6.

* * *

"-And then we drove here. " Alex was telling Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones. Mrs. Jones nodded while Blunt stayed as emotionless as ever.

"Your guardian will be here any minute." Right on cue, the door opened and a young man in his early twenties walked in. He had black, shaggy, windblown hair and green eyes and was fairly tall at 5' 9". He looked slightly familiar but Alex couldn't quite place from where. The man extended a hand to Alex.

"Zachary Del Rio." In return, the teen frowned. "Alex Rider."

"Well, now that everything's settled, you can go if you wish." Zach looked over at Alex. Said boy nodded in return. They quietly made their way to Zach's car, another McLaren. This one was red instead of black.

Alex considered asking Zach for a hand, but vetoed against it. He squeezed into the car and Zach's shoved his keys in the ignition.

They drove in silence, until it became unbearable for Alex.

"Look. I don't want to be rude or anything, but MI6 said I would know my guardian. I flicked through every person I met, but I still don't know who you are."

Zach frowned, and abruptly stopped the car. He stuck out his hand and said, " Well. I guess we should reintroduce ourselves. Zach Del Rio, but you can call me Tiger."

Like a punch to his face, Alex remembered where he saw Tiger from. He was the leader one of the units training along with K. Fox and Tiger had been good friends, having been in college together and transferred to MI6 roughly at the same time.

Alex hid back a smirk and shook the mans hand firmly. "Cub." Zach nodded, as though satisfied and they drove the rest of the way without incident.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Betrayal **

**By Half an Inch**

* * *

Theyhadn't been driving very long when a large, Victorian house came into view. Alex craned his neck to see better.

Zach quickly stole a glance at Alex. "It's my place," he said, probably seeing Alex face. In response, Alex just nodded in understanding.

"Need any help?" He asked as he saw Alex struggling. In return, Alex smiled. "Thanks."

He extended his arm out. Alex clasped on to it firmly, and climbed out of the car. He walked up a stone path to a red painted door.

"Nice place." He commented, as Zach inserted a key into the doorknob. He pushed open the door and walked in.

Alex followed.

The inside was even grander than the outside. Two staircases snaked their way to the top story. A glittering chandelier hung from the rather high ceiling.

Zach threw his keys in a tray on the table and hung his jacket up on a coat rack by the door.

The floor was polished marble and it made it difficult to maneuver the crutches for Alex.

Zach helped him in to the sitting room. Alex collapsed in a chair. "You alright?" Tiger asked with a worried expression on his face.

He hadn't known the kid long, but his warm, chocolate eyes and blonde shaggy hair were enough to charm almost anyone.

Alex screwed his eyes shut. "I will be after I take some painkillers. "

Zach nodded. "Stay here," he said and disappeared through one of the many doors.

Alex took that time to scan his surroundings. There were five ceiling-length bookshelves against the farthest wall. A large Persian rug took up most of the floor. There was a large wood desk on one corner of he room. A suit of armor stood on the right side of the large French door.

Zach came back in yielding a glass of water and two pills. Alex popped them in his mouth and downed the water.

They sat there for around thirty minutes in silence.

"Better now?" Zach asked after a while. Alex nodded. "A little." Zach helped Alex stand.

"I'll show you to your room. Get some rest. I'll stir up some dinner."

* * *

Two minutes later found the two of them standing in a large room on the second story.

Three of the walls were painted white. The other was painted with a large black motif. There was a large black spread on the bed and a fuzzy carpet to match. Black curtains failed to do their job as sunlight streamed through the window.

The rest of the floor area was occupied by a wardrobe and dresser that matched the color of the hardwood floor.

"So, what is this? Like, a guest room?" Alex asked as he inspected two large black-and-white posters.

"Yeah. I guess you could say that. For...unexpected guests," Zach answered lazily from where he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Get some rest," he yelled over his shoulder as he retreated back downstairs.

* * *

"Wow. You actually know how to cook," Alex commented as he leaned against the counter top.

Zach calmly continued chopping up a cucumber, though inside, his heart was beating like crazy."Yeah. As a matter of fact, I do. Didn't hear you coming."

Alex shrugged. He pushed himself off the counter with his uninjured arm and asked Zach if he needed help.

He answered in a negative but said that if Alex really felt like helping he could set the table.

He showed him where the cutlery was placed. Alex set the plates and cups and tried to make small talk with Zach. Key word 'tried'.

"So. Where do you go to school?"

"Brooklands."

Silence.

"What's your favorite...color?"

"Blue."

Another pause.

"Where do-" Zach began but Alex cut him off.

"You haven't done this before, have you?"

Zach shook his head.

Some more silence.

"I think the foods burning."

"Dammit!"

* * *

Zach had managed to salvage the food by scraping off the burnt parts (which weren't much).

Dinner was eaten in silence. When they were finished, they cleaned the dishes together. Or Zach cleaned the dishes while Alex tried to help.

"Alex... Please. Go sit down. I got it." Zach protested as Alex lifted a sponge.

Alex frowned and set the sponge down. "You're making me feel bloody useless Let me do something!"

Zach just smirked and kindly told Alex to 'get the hell out of here.'

Said boy did so, grumbling while hopping on his crutches to the sitting room. He heard his caretakers faint call of, 'make yourself at home.'

_Home_, Alex thought ironically. _Yeah right._

Zach seemed like a nice enough person, but, to face the facts, he barely knew the man. If he could do so, he would go up to Blunt and tell him that he didn't know Tiger. Rather, he knew _of_ him. He would calmly state that there was a huge difference. Then, he would take a gun, and shoot Blunt in the brain...

Alex shook his head. Like that was going to happen. He settled down. A moment later, Zach walked in, drying his hands on a towel.

He sat down across from the boy on a comfy-looking chair.

"So," he began, "What year are you in?"

Alex smirked.

"2014."

Zach rolled his eyes. "Jones told me you already finished your schooling."

Alex answered the question disinterestedly. "Yeah. For once, Jones wasn't lying. MI6 got me tutor to cover everything I missed. Since we had time, we decided it wouldn't hurt to keep on going with my study's. Though I convinced her that she should let me go to school."

"_Alex. You're a genius! If you like, we can get you a degree, too, if you want."_

Alex had been all up for the idea, but at that moment, MI6 whisked him away to some place near Canada. When he came back, there were no signs of the man who had once been his tutor.

Jones had agreed, convincing Blunt that Alex would be rather bored otherwise.

Alex hadn't noticed how much time had passed while he was daydreaming. Zach had lapsed in silence.

Zach spoke, startling Alex out of his stupor. "Look. I've been wondering..."

The teen in question looked at the man warily.

"What happened to your older guardian? You're too young to live by yourself."

Alex's face closed off. "Shes gone," he said in a nonchalant manner.

Zach cast his eyes downward. "I'm sorry for your loss." They sat together watching the flames flicker as the rain pounded harder outside.

* * *

"Whoa. You're up," Zach commented, surprised. He was positive teenagers liked to sleep in. At least, he himself had. He walked over and flicked on the light. The was storm was still pounding outside. The clock read 3:37 A.M and a teenage boy was sitting, doubled over on the counter.

"You okay? I thought teenagers were supposed to speep in late," He asked as he placed a glass of water next to him. Alex looked up and Zach got a clear view of his face. He looked tired with dark bags underneath his eyes.

"I'm fine. Couldn't sleep."

Lie.

He couldn't tell Zach about his nightmares

_Blood, gunfire, go-_

Alex shook his head. Instead, he turned to Zach. "Why're you up?"

In response, the older man shrugged as he pulled himself on to the granite top next to his ward. "I'm a spy." He said in a way of explanation.

Finally, the awkwardness became too much for the young spy.

"I really should get some sleep." The boy muttered as he hopped the table.

"You're not using crutches." Zach stated rather than asked.

Alex just smile cheekily and calmly held up a certain finger. Zach grinned at the boys steadily retreating back.

That was not what he was expecting when MI6 came knocking at his door.

A really whiny, bratty, teenager? Maybe.

This mature-beyond-his-age youth? No.

Despite that, he kinda enjoyed having him around. Kept him on his toes. Zach smiled. Things were looking up.

* * *

As Zach descended down the stairs, he vaguely heard someone talking on the phone.

_Alex_, his sleep muddled brain supplied. Zach shoved a pot of water into the coffee pot.* While he waited for the pot to boil, he causally leaned over the breakfast bar.

"Who are you talking to?" He asked. The boy looked up from where he lay sprawled on the couch. "Tom. Friend of mine." Was the blunt answer. He went back to arguing on who would win the football match.

"Chelsea is going to _kill_ Liverpool." He was saying.

Zach shook his head and transferred his coffee to a mug, even though he still didn't know who Tom was.

He popped two pieces of toast into the toaster and listened to alex useless banter with one ear.

The boy looked up and said, "Hey, Zach?"

His guardian grunted in response.

Alex took that as a cue and continued. "Tom invited me over."

Zach looked up from the newspaper he was reading.

"Who, where and when?"

A sigh escaped the boys lips. "Tom Harris? Sixteen years of age? Male? British citizen? As for the when and where, at the park across the street. Wednesday. After school."

Zach nodded. He didn't think it would be safe for Alex to go out. But the kid deserved a break. _I'll just send someone to tail him, he thought._

"When will you be back?"

"Uh.. I'll try to be back around.. five?" Alex said, and the paused. "-Ish." He added.

The elder man smiled and went back to his newspaper. "Just give me a mobile number and your free to go."

Alex was in the middle of expressing his gratitude when the phone rang.

He answered it. The boys face broke into a grin.

"For the millionth time, Tom. Liverpool is going _down_!"

Zach laughed as he saw the teenager limp upstairs to argue in peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

_One week later._..

"You want me to drive you there?" Zach asked as Alex stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth.

"No. I got it."

Zach shrugged. "Your loss. Be careful. Call me!"

Alex chuckled as Zach realized just how wrong that sounded.

Alex hopped on his bike and cycled his way to the park his friend had picked out. He saw Tom dribbling a football on a large field.

"Hey, mate," his friend said as they shared a brief, one-armed hug. "I'm gonna kick your butt."

Alex smirked. "Hey! Go easy. Injured person here." He took advantage of Tom's distraction and stole the ball from under his foot.

Tom collapsed to the ground when his support was stolen.

"Oh! You're _on_," he spluttered and stole the ball back from his friend.

Soon, the innocent game of football was reduced to a wrestling match.

Alex grinned as he palmed a clump of grass and threw it at Tom. In return, the boy spluttered and threw his own piece of grass at the blonde.

It was just like old times.

Sooner rather than later, Alex's leg made itself known.

The dark haired teen noticed his friends discomfort and offered to drive to the nearest fast-food joint.

Alex reluctantly agreed. He ordered a light lunch of salad while the smaller of them ordered a burrito, burger, fries, a chocolate shake, and a side of pie. Alex rolled his eyes at his friends expense and collapsed into a booth.

After the rather large meal, Tom drove Alex back home.

"See you later." He said and drove away.

Alex sighed and limped back into the house. When he got in, Zach was nowhere to be seen. He spotted a note stuck to the fridge by a magnet.

Fearing the worst, plucking the note off of its spot with his fingernails, he read it deliberately and slowly.

_Went out to go shopping._

_It's just groceries. I'll be back later, around five-ish._

Alex looked at the clock. 3:30. He had two hours to kill.

He sighed again, and decided to just lie on the couch and watch television or something. Alex really couldn't wait for when MI6 deemed him healthy enough to go back to school. He was bored mindless.

Barely five minutes later, his restless nights caught up with him. Against his will, Alex blissfully fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Zach turned the key into the lock of his house. He spotted Alex's bike on the porch and instantly knew Alex had made it home without being kidnapped, shot at, or blowing anything up.

Zach smiled. _Life was way more interesting with a teenage super-spy in it, _he thought. "I'm home!" He yelled as he dumped the bags of grocery on the counter.

No response.

"Alex?" He called out, tentatively walking towards the living room.

No answer.

He was this close to calling MI6 to get a search party out, when he spotted the boy sprawled and passed out on the sofa.

Zach smiled at the cute sight and made a silent vow to never bring it up when the spy was in the room.

After a few quick photos, he made his way back to the kitchen. It came to mind that a spy shouldn't be able to sleep through this much noise, but he brushed it away. He was a teenager after all. Besides, he looked like he needed sleep.

He quickly busied himself with fixing dinner, his mind straying to the topic of how boring his time home really was without the boy in the picture.

Distracted as he was, he didn't notice when his knife slipped and grazed his finger. Zach cursed and went to fetch a bandage.

* * *

Alex woke up after an hour, refreshed. "Hey," he said, as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

Zach turned around from where he was stirring something in a pot. "Good, you're up. Just in time for dinner; I made stir-fry."

Alex nodded and sat atop the counter and drained his glass. He dumped the glass into the sink and reached up into the cabinet above the microwave. He got the plates down and set the table.

After eating dinner, the two of them called it a day and made their way upstairs to bed.

Alex, of course, didn't sleep until two that morning.

* * *

_Friday, the following week._

Zach looked up as the uniform-clad teenager climbed down the stairs. Alex had continued going to school, and even gained most of his friends back. The teachers were more kind towards him, thanks to MI6's agreement to get him a tutor. He was still a little behind in science, but that was nothing that couldn't be worked on.

"I'm gonna be home kinda late today. After-school project." He said, as he poured himself a travel mug full of coffee. His guardian grunted in acknowledgment.

He pushed the newspaper towards Alex. "Look. Terrorists bombing attacks in America. The governments shutting down the Pentagon and keeping the White House under lock down."

Alex raised an eyebrow as he scanned the page. "I'm not surprised. The Americans are paranoid."

Alex ignored the muttered 'for good reasons' from Zach as he grabbed a helmet from the table near the entrance.

He had discovered that his guardian owned a red Ducati Monster 696 motorcycle. Seeing no harm in it, Zach had taught the sixteen-year old how to ride. Ian had already taught him, but Zach just brushed up his skills.

"See ya'!" He yelled out the door before jumping on the bike and riding to school.

* * *

It was a few days later when Tiger found out about Alex's nightmares. The man woke up to retching sounds and the door to the bathroom open, with shafts of light pouring out. He found his ward bent over the porcelain bowl, dry heaving, knuckles white from where he clutched the sides.

"Are you okay?" He asked, kneeling next to Alex.

The boy turned, startled. "My leg is killing me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He replied, not wanting to lie, but not telling the truth either.

"Are you sick?"

Alex turned away, embarrassed. "No. I couldn't sleep."

His guardian raised an eyebrow, "And that caused you to throw up how, exactly?"

"Look. Can we talk in the morning? I'll explain everything then."

Zach reluctantly agreed, sending the boy back to bed.

The next morning, before school, he sat Alex down and reminded him of his promise he made the night before.

Slowly opening up, Alex started gradually recounting the events occurring in his nightmares.

Zach was silent throughout the whole ordeal, occasionally adding a grunt or nod.

"-And it just leaps on me... Tears me apart. There's blood everywhere. I call someone's name, but I can't remember whose. I call them, beg them even, to save me from that horrible beast. But they never come. I wake up after that."

Both spies lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

Alex said something, but Zach didn't hear him, what with him zoned out and all.

"Zach?"

"Hmm?"

The younger looked at him weirdly and repeated his earlier statement. "Can I go now?"

Zach turned to glance at his ward, nodded, and went back to thinking about whatever it was that he was thinking about.

As Alex laid his hand on the brass handle of the front door, Zach called out his name. He turned around warily. "Yes?"

His guardian looked troubled. "Have you considered telling someone about your missions? It can help."

Alex looked uncertain.

"Look. Alex, you need to try and trust me. It could be dangerous for you to keep everything bottled up. Have MI6 assigned you a therapist?"

Alex shook his head.

"Next time I see Jones I'll mention it to her. But I really want you to talk to someone. 'Kay?"

The boy simply muttered that he'd try it next time and fled out the door.

School was very boring, as per usual, and Alex found himself constantly daydreaming. One or two of the girls in his class had even asked him if he was okay.

He just smiled that dazzling smile of his and told them that he was fine. They instantly dropped the topic, instead drooling over him like he was a celebrity.

The minutes ticked by and the time for lunch break rolled around. Alex got his lunch tray and sat at his usual spot with Tom, James, and a few of his other friends from the football team.

Tom looked over at his tray as Alex sat down. "What's for lunch?" He asked. Tom, for some reason, always asked him the same question every day. Alex thought it as because he always brought lunch from home. That, or just a very stupid habit.

Alex pulled a face and replied, "Soup and French bread. Though it's a little bitter."

Tom shrugged and turned back to the heated argument of something or another. Alex occasionally threw in a smart mouthed comment or his own input but mostly stayed silent.

His stomach was doing weird flops. The conversation from that morning was making him nervous, he supposed, though he didn't know why he was getting so worked up over it.

After P.E, Alex made his way towards the last class of that day; math. He could fell a headache blossoming from behind his eyes as he tried to understand the symbols on the board.

Constantly glancing at the clock, Alex wondered why he was so restless. He just had a bad feeling about this whole thing in general.

The sharp tone of the bell ringing pulled him from his thoughts. He quickly took note of the homework, and joined the mill of students as they fought their way outside the place they called hell.

* * *

The moment Alex stepped into Zach's house, he could instantly tell something was wrong. Tension clogged the air so much that someone cut literally cut it with a butter knife.

He found the owner of the house sitting in the living room, talking on the phone. Alex sat across from him and waited for him to finish. "What's wrong?" He asked when Zach put down the phone.

"MI6 called. They want us there in thirty minutes. They promised it wasn't for a mission." He added hurriedly when he saw the horrified expression on his wards face.

"What'd they want?"

"Something about living arrangements. Shouldn't take us too long. An hour, tops."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "I'm gonna go get changed." He said and bolted upstairs. It was hot and all Alex wanted to do was take a nice,cool shower. He could always count on MI6 to ruin everything.

He quickly changed into dark jeans and a plain orange tee shirt with a button down shirt over.

Not finding Zach in the hallway, he wandered downstairs.

Not there either.

Alex finally found him in the garage, already seated in his red McLaren. As soon as the door shut, he sped off.

That was one thing Alex like about him. He drove fast, and he drove dangerous. As Zach sped through yet another red light, Alex couldn't help but think that it gave him a bit of an adrenaline rush.

When they arrived Alex felt a teensy bit queasy, but he quickly brushed it off. He briefly wondered why he didn't have an identification code when his guardian recited his own to the receptionist.

She directed them to the elevator, even though he could've found it in his sleep from the experience he had. They got to the fifteenth floor and Alex was reminded of the time he jumped out the window to get to Ian's office.

He looked through the reinforced glass and saw the Union Jack fluttering in the wind innocently. He scowled and wondered why he was constantly getting off track.

He was knocked out of his thoughts by Zach rapping on the door sharply. A muffled 'come in' resounded from the room and Alex twisted the handle.

They both didn't hesitate to find a chair.

As usual, Mrs. Jones was perched on a chair to the left of Blunts desk sucking a peppermint. Blunt himself looked as grey and drab as ever.

Alex resisted the urge to just strangle the heads of MI6 and demand why they had to ruin his life. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Jones spoke up, addressing Zach.

"Agent Del Rio. As I'm sure you know, we gathered you here to discuss Alex's," at this she paused to glance at said boy, who was looking out the window. "Living arrangements. We just need to get some stuff to get sorted out from child services."

Just like that, they spent almost two hours signing papers and calling people Alex didn't bother meeting.

While Blunt was talking with his assistant, and Jones was signing some papers, Alex leaned over and whispered into Zach's ear. "Can we go now?"

Zach frowned at him and eyed him warily. "Why don't you wait downstairs? We'll be done in a few."

Alex didn't bother asking if he meant a few seconds or a few minutes. He stood up and silently slipped out the room.

True to his word, Zach came down clutching some files and a frown on his face. "Let's go," he said curtly.

The drive home was silent. Alex asked his guardian if he should make dinner but Zach just said that he wasn't hungry. In truth, Alex wasn't hungry either. If anything, that queasy feeling was back full force.

He excused himself claiming that he was 'exhausted' and that he should 'really get to sleep'.

With difficulty, Alex trudged up the stairs. He felt fatigued and breathing felt harder. He slammed his hand on the light switch to the bathroom and leaned over the sink. He skin felt clammy and sweaty. Fever?

Suddenly, Alex felt dizzy. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the countertop and leaned his forehead on the cool glass.

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

* * *

Zach frowned at his ward as he climbed up the stairs. As soon as he was out if his vision, and out of earshot, he whipped out his phone and dialed the first person on his speed dial. Ben Daniels.

Unsurprisingly, he picked up on the second ring. "Hey, mate. What's up?"

Zach smiled a little. "Hey. It's been a while. How's everything?"

"I know you too well to think that you called me just to catch up." Came the teasing reply.

"You're right." He sighed and cut to the chase. "You know how Alex is staying with me, right? Well, MI6 called me...us to H.Q. They told me that some organization is looking for him. Revenge, and all that. I just needed someone to talk to."

"Yeah? Well you came to the right-"

His reply was cut off by a loud crash from upstairs. Both men heard it and they both had the same thought running through their minds.

_Alex_.


End file.
